


How to Hatch a Dragon

by SalamanderInk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Alternate Universe - Vampire, BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Tony Stark, Banter, Biting, Blood Magic, Bonding, Clone Sex, Dragon Egg Cameo, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Getting Together, Horn Stimulation, Loki/Tony Stark/Loki - Freeform, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rituals, Sex Magic, Tentacles, Vampire Tony Stark, succubus Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalamanderInk/pseuds/SalamanderInk
Summary: Tony was brooding, Pepper was meddling, and Rhodey was already off to live out his mated bliss.So here he was, chasing half forgotten impressions and gut feelings, feeling more reckless than he had in millennia. Perhaps getting tangled with the most powerful immortal in the council wasn't his wisest move, however the succubus prince didn't seem like he wanted to hurt him... at least not unless he asked nicely.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 133
Collections: Frostiron Holiday Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sparcina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/gifts).



> Alright, so. This happened. It was not 600 words long (whooops?) and I hope you're happy, Sparz, because this is entirely your fault.  
> This is self indulgence at its finest.  
> I suppose I should TW for ... horn kink?  
> This was first posted anonymously as part of the Frostiron Secret Santa, so I'm redating it for the day it was unveiled to the greater public XD  
> Enjoy!

There was a letter on his desk. 

That was new. Unexpected. After all, at the height of the twenty-first century few people even used paper anymore. 

Tony was a vampire. An _old_ vampire. He drifted through history seeking something he could not name, never letting himself have much of a hand in shaping the world, never letting his mark be known. Sometimes, a few of his pseudonyms gained traction, becoming well-enough known in the circles of historians but never famous enough to go beyond them. 

What changed? 

From its advent, technology had always fascinated him. Automatons, mechanical devices that reduced human labor, computers and printing presses, clever contraptions that made the impossible ordinary. 

Tony loved it, thrived on it, hated it. 

It was much _much_ harder for vampires to pass by unnoticed in western countries since global censuses had been implemented. Automated civil records, CCTV cameras, ID cards that included photos and fingerprints, all those pesky and numerous documents that were apparently required if one wanted to be able to live in modern society. 

And, if Tony was to do all that effort simply in order to _survive,_ well, he might as well get some enjoyment out of it. 

Stark Industries was born from a spark of whimsy. 

Humans had always been belligerent creatures, finding new and interesting ways to kill each other off. Tony wasn’t all too worried in helping them along in that pursuit, and having wealth was almost always advantageous. Money talked, and it was always better to have some on hand when one might end up at the wrong side of the law, or worse, on the wrong side of society as a whole if it came to that. 

Of course he hadn’t intended to become famous. Having his name plastered in every newspaper was one of the worst things anyone could do to someone who was effectively an immortal doing his best to pass as normal in a mortal world. 

Obviously, he wasn’t the only one doing so, and various guilds and communities of immortals had started going about and protecting themselves and each other in whatever ways they could. And Tony had put himself in a position to help other immortals, those who required either the powers of an Elder vampire, or the wealth of a billionaire. 

His requests were varied and sparse, but these days he’d taken to delegating those to one of his eldest Childer. Pepper had always been frighteningly competent, and while she might hide it well, Tony knew she was a real bleeding heart. 

Of course, calling her out on it would result in her calling _him_ out, so he tended to keep quiet about it. 

And obviously, just because he was her maker didn’t mean she didn’t have her own ways of butting into his affairs. 

Actually, it seemed to be a trend. All his Childer seemed to make it their business to take care of him in their own way. Jarvis had dedicated his afterlife to ensuring his well being and keeping track of his affairs, Pepper had ‘accidentally’ gotten herself an executive position in Tony’s company, rising into the ranks until she became his personal assistant, and Friday? Well, Friday’s meddling took on more subtle forms. 

At least the bots… No, even the bots. 

Tony looked back to the unassuming letter on his desk. 

For all that Tony had embraced the technological age with open arms, most other immortals still preferred other, old fashioned tools. 

At least this wasn’t vellum. Or papyrus. 

But why had the Council contacted _him?_ Pepper’s interference had at least the advantage of letting him foist those particular responsibilities upon her instead, and most everything he could do she had no trouble doing. If anything, Pepper was even more efficient. 

Unless this was something serious. Something that required the raw power only acquired through the centuries. This felt… ominous. 

And yet, when he let his fingers hover over the innocuous enveloppe, letting himself get a feel for the auras and memories of the paper, he could not sense any true sense of urgency. Nothing dangerous, nothing _dire._

Perhaps even something familiar, reassuring. 

Why then would the letter have ended up on his desk instead of Pepper’s? 

“Jarvis?” 

Whenever something out of the ordinary happened, his Childe could usually be counted upon to either know or find the answer. 

“Sir?”

His Childe answered the unspoken query with a lilting spark of humor that did little to hide his amusement at Tony’s expense. 

The sass. The younger generation had no respect for their Elders anymore. 

Not that Jarvis was truly young by any stretch of the imagination, even his second rebirth as a disembodied being was far from recent. 

Still. The point remained. 

“The letter?”

The sass would never end, Tony was resigned to it by now. Though, he didn’t _actually_ mind. 

“I believe Miss Potts volunteered your services for the latest issue the Council needed a hand with. I believe her exact words were ‘this might make this old grump finally come out of his funk. He’s got to stop moping about his bestie’s mating _sometime_ this century. His foul mood is depressing everyone around him.’ Obviously Sir, you are not actually contracted to any actual mission unless you accept them yourself.” 

Tony blinked at the soundbyte, Pepper’s somewhat wry voice sounding a tad jarring after not having heard it for so long. 

How long had it been since he’d last seen her? Tony blinked. 

Perhaps he really _had_ been ‘moping’. 

In Tony’s defense, he really was happy that Rhodey had found his ‘True Love’ or whatever he wanted to call it. He was almost as old if not older than Tony himself, a responsible, clever man who wanted nothing less than true affection and mutual understanding with his chosen partner and he and Carol were so disgustingly happy and romantic Tony couldn’t even find it in himself to resent the firestorm of a woman who had finally managed to seduce Rhodey into settling down. If Tony was entirely honest with himself, he’d seen it coming for actual centuries and he was even pretty relieved that they’d finally stopped dancing around each other. 

And really, it wasn’t even like they were pining for each other. They clearly knew the other was at least somewhat interested, they’d certainly taken up the habit of making eyes at each other whenever their mutual responsibilities brought them to the same room, and yet they’d somehow decided to refrain from actually acting upon it, presumably for no other reason that to torture everyone around them with the rampant Unresolved Sexual Tension. 

That Carol was the one to make the first move was hilarious but not entirely unexpected in vampire culture. It wasn’t nearly as backwardly patriarchal as human culture, since women’s vampiric powers were often just as kickass as men’s. 

No, Carol proposing to Rhodey wasn’t an issue because she was a woman, but it _was_ fairly scandalous if one took into account that Rhodey was an _Elder._ However, everyone had been expecting it for so parquesdamned long that no one really considered giving _her_ a hard time about it. 

Rhodes might suffer through some gentle ribbing for dragging it out for so long. Once he came back. 

_If_ he came back. 

Alright, so Tony _might_ have overreacted with his little depressive episode. It wasn’t as though his oldest friend wouldn’t come back, or that he would suddenly be more interested in his shiny new unlife partner than in his eldest and bestest friend. Really, that would be ridiculous. Tony had nothing to worry about. 

He was _not_ moping, and he resented being called _old_ or _grumpy._ Did no one respect him anymore? 

Perhaps he _did_ feel the familiar bite of nostalgia, that old yearning for something or someone to call his own, to call his _home._

He usually went off to hide in his workshop whenever that old ache came back. 

The envelope still remained unopened on his desk, like a lure calling him from his seclusion. 

He was half inclined to just leave it there, unopened out of spite since it didn’t appear overly urgent, but... 

Curiosity had always been his downfall, and for all that Pepper sometimes decided to butt into his affairs, she didn’t usually do it unless his behavior had truly turned to the worrisome and potentially harmful. 

_...harmful…?_

“Jarvis, when was the last time I drank something?” 

The judgemental silence that answered his question did not bode well. 

One of the perks of being an Elder was that sustenance wasn’t nearly so vital as it was for younger vampires. However that did not make him entirely immune to the general weakness and lethargy brought on by starvation. 

Rhodey would be furious if he learned about it. 

And if Tony didn’t start pulling himself together, Pepper would actually call Rhodey back from his honeymoon, and no matter how much Tony felt like sulking, he did not actually want to disrupt his friend’s happiness. Quite the contrary. 

He sighed, thumping his head back against the bookshelf. 

Perhaps whatever was in the envelope would be a good distraction. The general aura of it had seemed to herald pretty good things, after all. Some sort of nervous anticipation and awe? It was nebulous, since Tony read memories from objects not feelings and this was only the enveloppe. 

A quick flick of his claws had the thin paper ripping and the letter slipping out, unfolding and hovering before him.

He skimmed through the note, something about a power boost being needed in order to perform a magic ritual. The mother of monsters. Dragons. 

Curious. But that didn’t explain the anticipatory twist in his gut. 

He sighed.

Eyes closed, he let his fingers gently caress the paper, feeling for its memory, it’s unspoken message. 

The joyous anticipation of lost things soon to be recovered, of new beginnings and old souls. Tony breathed out, shaky. 

Whatever it was, he needed to see it. He needed to be there. 

At least it promised to be interesting. 

*

Perhaps Tony should have thought more before sending back his agreement. Actually taken the time to sleep, since going over forty dawns without rest was pushing it even for Elder standards. Perhaps downing another can of blood or two would have cleared his thoughts a little. 

Not that Tony was actually _adverse_ to what his written consent had actually entailed, really. Pepper knew him quite well in that regard—embarrassingly so even—but he was undoubtedly surprised _._

Admittedly he only really had himself to blame, and the surprise wasn’t actually unpleasant. Still, it had been a long time since he’d been caught so very off guard. 

The room was barren, neat and elegant, covered in glyphs and runes, words and symbols of power intricately inscribed into every surface. Otherwise, it was void of anything but a single egg as large as a big cat pulsing with light in a corner… and a single being that Tony knew quite well and most certainly _hadn’t_ expected to see there. 

Before him stood the smirky, cocky, beautiful leader of the Succubi clans, in all of their half-naked glory. 

Tony took a moment to enjoy the view, the lithe silhouette, the long legs and defined muscles, the supple skin with its distinctive blue sheen set off with glimmering golden bands winding around their horns and arms. 

And of course the dark sigils writhing over their skin, alive with the magic inherent to shadows, this strange power belonging to dragonkins that seemed just so much more sentient somehow than the power of any other type of immortal. 

The succubus smirked at him, mischief sparking in their eyes in a way that seemed even more alluring than the sheer perfection of their body. 

Right, perhaps Tony had been staring a bit too long. But damned if the other wasn’t so _fucking_ beautiful. The perfect combination of pretty and handsome that was so particular to the succubi who chose to walk the line between genders, and with eyes that danced with a trickster’s mirth. And Tony was attracted to cleverness more than anything, especially the type that didn’t take itself too seriously. 

Somehow, this succubus managed to tick _all_ of Tony’s boxes. 

He’d seen them before of course. One did not have a seat in the Council of Immortals without having come across _Loki_ at least once. Though he’d never actually talked to the succubus, he’d certainly heard them gleefully making fun of the various self-important morons that had come upon their promotions through less than legitimate means. With an unmistakable flair that somehow mixed teasing seduction and matchless wit, Loki had pointed out and made them expose all their flaws and greedy ploys as though it was effortless fun _._

Tony had always been fascinated, and admittedly a bit wary to see that beautiful and lethal mind turned against him. And very, very aroused, which he had never really bothered hiding, no matter the amused looks it got him. Hiding arousal from a succubus was an exercise in pointlessness he’d never seen fit to bother with, within the limits of politeness of course. 

Just because he found himself hot and bothered in someone’s presence didn’t mean he was entitled to anything, contrary to what some poor unfortunate souls had seemed confused about before Loki had set them straight, nor did it give him any excuse to start behaving with anything less than the highest courtesy. 

Still, before this day, Tony hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak with them, and he certainly hadn’t known that this clever and entrancing being was the famed _Mother of Monsters._

Somehow, Tony had expected someone… bigger. With more teeth. Or eyes. Or tentacles perhaps? 

All things considered, it was quite fortunate for him that it wasn’t the case, considering what his agreement actually entailed _._

“Did my presence render you speechless, Stark? I heard that was quite the feat to accomplish. One would almost think that you’d agreed to take on this duty without actually _reading_ the assignment.”

The succubus started prowling toward him, teasing smirk showing off the tip of a fang. Tony shivered at the thought of having those buried in his neck. 

At burying _his own_ fangs in the elegant curve of that blue skin. 

His undead heart beat too fast within his chest. Suddenly, the canned blood he’d ingested on the way felt paltry, too weak, too poor. He was ravenous for the lifefluid of another true immortal, the ichor that ran through dragonkin veins. 

He swallowed the sudden pooling of saliva that had filled his mouth. Anesthetics. Aphrodisiacs. He knew what it contained, but it had been so very long since he’d actually used it when sinking his teeth into living and unliving flesh. 

But it was unbelievably rude to drink from another immortal without expressed consent, and usually doing so was so intimate it implied some sort of commitment on one or both ends. 

Tony blinked the haze from his mind. Loki’s abilities were quite fearsome if he was able to bring him back to the frail and pitiful state of a new vampire thirsting so desperately they couldn’t even control their salivary glands. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like that. Young, eager. Safe. 

_Speechless?_

Perhaps it was _his_ turn to turn on the charm. 

Deliberately relaxing his shoulders and falling into the swagger that had turned more than a few heads over the centuries, Tony fixed the succubus with a smoldering gaze before biting his lip. 

“The sublime strikes silence in the hearts of men. Surely you’re not unaware of the effect you have on people around you, mortals and immortals alike.” 

Loki froze for a moment before his smile widened, showing teeth. 

How peculiar. It had been a long time since such a downright hungry smile was turned his way. 

The reversal was as alluring as it was unexpected. Tony loved it. 

How rare was it for him to find anyone who could actually match him? Whose raw power and charisma could affect him? 

It had been years since he last found himself impressed by anyone. Of course he was always appreciative of his clan’s competence, but theirs was a steady and dependable proficiency. 

Loki’s subtle flex of his powers was instead thrilling _._ New, unexpected, unpredictable. _Dangerous._

“Flattery, Stark? I thought better of you.”

_Challenging._

“Humility, from one who could hold anyone’s heart in the palm of their hand with but a word and a look?”

Loki’s red eyes became hooded, a pretend lethargy that didn’t betray the coiling tension of a predator about to strike. 

“Since when is the Merchant of Death as impressionable as mere mortals?” 

Since his mind had taken a vacation while admiring the pretty magic tattoos and gotten lost along Loki’s mile long legs. 

Since he’d found himself more alive during this conversation that he had since the time he’d figured how to save his discorporated Childe through an impossible bit of magic. 

He’d languished without a challenge to churn his mind, without an opponent to pit himself against, without the thrill of running headlong into a risky situation, knowing there was a good chance he wouldn’t come out unscathed.

Loneliness must have addled his mind, Pepper was right. He was definitely not over Rhodey’s absence. 

Succubi were dangerous for a reason. 

“Since his challenger happens to be _the Mother of Monsters.”_

Tony wouldn’t let himself be one-upped on the name-calling. Even if he found himself flabbergasted that the famed being of legend was none other than Loki, he would not let it shake him up. A title was a title, they often had a basis on accomplishments or stances. Loki’s had been earned through their tendency to rescue every abandoned creature of lethal and humongous proportions he came across and treating them like adorable and harmless children. 

Though the more Tony thought about it, the less surprised he found himself. In fact, he could almost reconcile the image of the snarky wordsmith that so easily toyed with the most powerful immortals of the planet with that of the mysterious being who found in his heart compassion for those creatures rejected for their very fearsomeness. 

Perhaps succubi—or at least _Loki_ in particular—were more akin to fey than to dragonkin as had been before theorized. It would certainly explain the peculiar set of morals and considerations that ruled their actions. 

But Loki only leaned back, lips quirked in amusement. 

“You didn’t know. You really agreed to come without knowing what you were getting into. Oh, this is too good. I don’t know if I should be offended that the man who agreed to power my ritual didn’t even know he was going to do it with me.”

Tony tilted his head with an answering smirk. 

“Didn’t we already agree that I hadn’t actually read anything from the letter? Why, I didn’t know your pride was so fragile.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed in pleasure, anticipation humming in the air between them. 

“And I didn’t know Vampire Elders actually lost their cognitive abilities with age. Such a pity, I had been looking forward to matching wits with the renowned genius, it seems I must settle for a doddering old man.” 

Harsh. 

Tony chuckled. 

“Who are you calling old? Your reputation was established long before I got bitten. If anyone should be called a _relic_ here, shouldn’t it be you instead?”

Loki laughed, the pitch clear as a ringing choir of faeries. Tony shivered at the sheer magical pressure contained in that single sound. 

“A relic, am I? Should I feel flattered once again? Or are you looking to feel my might crush you under my heel?”

Kinky. 

The dark lines shivered upon Loki’s skin, shifting and twisting into new patterns, humming with power. The succubus’ fangs glinted in the dim light, a threat and a sensual promise both at once.

Tony stared back through his lashes, a lazy stance letting him sway with the outpour, supple yet ready. Wary. 

“Ah, but I know better than to ever rouse the ire of a venerable one such as yourself. It is quite impolite, after all, to provoke senior citizens.” 

There was a certain aura of smugness radiating through the room, shadowy tendrils of power flexing around the edges of Tony’s vision. The challenging glint in Loki’s red eyes was as infuriating as it was alluring, and their next words were faintly purred around a maddening dare. 

“Am I then supposed to believe that you rescind your agreement?”

He’d never really expected to end up alone with the succubus prince, but if he had it would certainly not have been through such a situation. For one he preferred to avoid being caught flat-footed by people he’d have enjoyed seducing. 

For another the ground of the ritual chamber didn’t look overly comfortable. 

“Never. I wouldn’t miss such a chance for anything.”

Loki’s answering smile let Tony know that he’d chosen the right words. Brilliant, mesmerising, _ravenous._ Tony could feel himself stirring in his breeches, his body already responding to the sheer sexual appeal of the being who would use his body and power for their own means. 

Blue hands slid over his shoulders and pulled him against a firm chest, clutching him close then sliding down, drawing sensual patterns across his skin. 

He gasped. 

A voice murmured in his ear from behind, low and teasing. 

“Good. Regret and uncertainty tastes terrible.” 

Tony would probably have found this tidbit hilarious, if not for the fact that _a second Loki_ was now nibbling at his ear while the first slinked toward him, thoroughly distracting him. 

His brain froze. 

Loki was behind him, touching him, _plastered_ against him. 

Loki was before him, smirking smugly, advancing on him like the predator they were. 

_There were two Lokis._

Tony was screwed. 

The best kind of screwed. 

He exhaled shakily, slumping weakly against _the fucking second Loki,_ cock stirring as his mind started spinning with possibilities. 

_Oh Turan!_

Nimble fingers mapped his chest and pulled at his clothes, slipping open the various fastenings and caressing any skin in reach. Loki looked down at him, eyes narrowed with mirth, a cocky smirk pulling at their lips as they used a single finger to caress Tony’s parted lips. 

His breathing felt ragged. Loki’s body was hot and solid behind him, he could feel a mischievous smile pressing against his neck, the titillating drag of sharp fangs against his jugular. His knees felt weak.

Tony _yearned._

It was ridiculous how much power the succubus held over him, how with a few exchanged words and glances, he could so easily reduce Tony to putty. 

Tony was not fighting it. He enjoyed the rush instead, the thrill, the way his blood was stirring again after so many centuries of dullness. When was the last time he’d desired something so terribly? The craving for more, for life, for adrenaline. For the way his heart could beat so fast, as though eager to greet the new day. 

How long had it been since Tony had last felt _excited_ about something?

Loki, the Loki before him, dragged their finger down from his lip before coming to rest under his chin, tilting his face up to peer down into his eyes. Their eyes were red as fresh blood, framed by dark lashes and narrowed in that place between contemplation and amusement, a mood detached from worldly concerns. 

The weight of eons and the steady and calm trust in one’s own immeasurable power. 

Tony didn’t know if he should feel gratified or annoyed at how much taller than him Loki was. 

Loki’s kiss came almost as a surprise, slow, soft, languorous. Tony melted into it, lips yielding under the gentle assault, arms winding around the taller being’s neck. He could feel his flesh awakening, body warming up under the soft, sensual touch. 

Loki dragged him closer against their chest, leaning slightly down and forcing Tony to bend back to accommodate, overbalanced and entirely dependent on Loki’s firm hold to stay upright. 

He couldn’t bring himself to mind the size difference anymore. 

Words whispered against his ear like the most devious and precious of secrets.

“Your pleasure could power my ritual, your potency as an Elder and the connection forged between two willing bodies feeding the array just enough for the impossible to happen.”

Behind him, the second Loki was pressing up against his body, mouthing at his neck, pulling at his belt. 

“I aim to hatch a dragon, Tony Stark, and I would have _you_ help me do it.”

Tony gasped, caged between the four arms wound around him, deliciously crushed inside this dual embrace. 

“I will drive you mad with lust, tease your flesh until you are hard and begging. I would unwrap you from those pesky garments before laying you bare, learning your flesh and your desires, opening you up with my fingers and bringing you to the brink without even touching your greedy cock.” 

Loki’s voice was bewitching, a low purr that rumbled through his bones and sent sparks of heat down his belly. 

“I would sheath myself inside you and ride you at the same time, driving you to the heights of pleasure again and again until you are too spent to think, too weak to move.” 

The succubus standing behind him smirked against his neck, letting his hands slide downwards to cup Tony’s rising manhood. 

“I would have you at my complete mercy, the strongest of elder vampires held in the palm of my hand.”

Loki slowly squeezed him through his pants, dragging him inexorably to the edge between bliss and torture. He held very still, breathless. 

Perhaps he _had_ gotten in a bit over his head. 

“But only if you agree, of course.”

Suddenly, he was alone. Loki was standing before him, too far to touch, to feel, a distant figure eyeing him with lazy mirth. 

Tony almost stumbled with the loss. He felt cold, bereft, the space between him and the Lokis felt like an unbreachable chasm, terrible and jarring. He wanted nothing more than to get back in the arms of that wonderful, captivating being, to preen and purr against those easy affections, and let himself be carried away by their words. 

“Is my mouthy vampire speechless again? Now, now, darling, I need _verbal_ consent.”

Tony almost let out a whine, before catching himself. He inhaled sharply, before swaying. He hadn’t expected Loki to have let his aura out. It smelled like the most heady of alcohols, the most delicious of bloods, the most fragrant of wildflowers. It stirred something deep into the depths of his mind, something forgotten and untamed. 

As though they weren’t already arousing enough. 

_“Cheater.”_

He exhaled slowly, doing his best to get his bearings. Did he really want this?

Who was he kidding, of course he did. He was only slightly pissed that he hadn’t been the one to make the first move. Or that their first interaction had him already so unprepared, so damn wrong-footed. 

He felt like a fumbling newborn caught in the mesmer of an Elder. Perhaps it wasn’t too unexpected, considering how much more experienced Loki was, especially when it came to seduction. Perhaps Tony really was rusty. 

But Tony was no Fledgling. He was an Elder of his own right and he refused to let himself be led by the tip of his nose. Like hell would he just be passively seduced like the easy mortal prey that Loki fed on. 

He had his pride, dammit!

He inhaled again, letting himself float nicely on the intoxicating smell of succubus on the prowl. And let his own aura flare out. 

With a naughty smirk, and a flash of fangs, he fell back on his millenia of sex appeal and let himself ooze temptation. 

“As much as I’d enjoy your hands on me, are you sure this is how you want to start?”

He strolled forward, nonchalant and cocky, coming to a stop before the succubus. There was an expectant gleam in those red eyes, something greedy, _fascinated._ The breath you held because you just needed to see what would happen and almost feared that the slightest move would disturb it, would set it off-course. 

Perhaps this is what Loki had been waiting for. For Tony to push back against their bid for control and assert himself, to actually put up a challenge and give as good as he got. 

Tony didn’t plan to disappoint. 

“I could put my hands on _you_ instead. I could kiss every inch of your skin, eat you alive until you felt the sweet bite of bliss overtake you again and again. I could make you feel what it’s like to have a lover take the lead instead of always being the one conducting the act. Wouldn’t you like that? To just sit back and enjoy being the one being made love to, being _worshipped_ like the god you are?”

Sweet words but Tony knew them to be true. It was rare for succubi’s lovers to make much effort to seduce and pleasure their partners. Obviously, the sex demons still got their satisfaction in the act, mostly because they actually fed on the shared pleasure. 

As a result, succubi tended to be the ones doing the work in their various couplings. They were renowned for their great skills, and had most certainly earned their reputations, but they rarely ever enjoyed lovers as diligent as themselves. And that was just a shame.

Tony had no intention of being a doormat. He had no intention of just letting Loki have their way with him. He’d finally gotten the opportunity to get his hand on the succubus, and he wasn’t about to waste the chance to make an impression. 

And if Loki decided that after all this they wanted to have seconds, or to call him back for a drink, then it was all the better. But Tony couldn’t worry about that yet. 

Loki wanted to use sex as a way to to power a ritual to hatch a dragon egg? That was fine! 

Loki wanted to double-team him? Excellent. 

Loki wanted Tony to just lay back and enjoy? Not going to happen. 

And so he smirked and sauntered closer, letting his eyes rove over Loki’s deliciously bare chest, before licking his lips and sending him a smoldering glance. 

“What do you say, Loki? Do _you_ agree?”

Loki laughed, delight and humor narrowing their eyes before they leaned closer, letting their lips hover a hair’s breadth above Tony’s. They spoke a dare like a promise and a threat, an offer to play a new game, one of delight and rapture, of control and abandon. 

“I would have you forget your name from pleasure and give up your ridiculous notion of control. What say you?”

And Tony never could resist a challenge. 

“Only if you lose your mind to pleasure with me, and remember only _my_ name.” 

Loki answered him with a shark smile and a biting kiss. They licked off the single drop of blood that pearled on his lip.

“And so mote it be.”

“And so it is.”

Magic flashed between them, a pact sealed in blood and pleasure, agreement and consent both. 

They smiled at each other, a moment suspended in time as anticipation brewed between them, a held breath as they locked eyes, red on red, determination and excitement, lust and seduction. 

And so the game began. 

The second Loki made their appearance once more, circling him with a predatory glint in their smirk, fingers trailing over the seams of Tony’s clothing, cat-like grace distracting as they slowly worked to divest him from his semi-formal apparel. 

Tony glanced back at the other Loki, watching him from afar with a mocking smile. Tony smiled back, wryly. He could understand. After all, the vampire wasn’t exactly taking the initiative even after all his pretty words. 

But that didn’t matter. 

Matters of seduction didn’t need to be rushed, or forced. They had all night, and Tony didn’t need to prove anything, he wasn’t an overcompensating virgin making a play at control. 

Loki wanted to take the lead, and that was fine, _for now._

Blue fingertips dragged over his abs and chest, raising goosebumps and igniting his skin. Tony shivered and buried his hand in Loki’s dark hair, letting his fingers caress the tip of their curving horns. 

Loki gasped, their body arching at the overly intimate touch. Few people knew how erogenous succubi horns could be, but Tony was lucky enough to be one of those few. He sent a sly smile over to the other Loki before swooping up to steal a kiss from trembling blue lips. His hands kept caressing Loki’s scalp, scraping over the base of their horns, relishing in the small plaintive noises that escaped their captive lips. 

It was intoxicating, watching such a powerful and composed being simply melting into him, to have them seem so very vulnerable and pliant.

A chuckle echoed by his ear. 

“None of that now.”

A delicate blue hand caught his wrist in a firm yet comfortable grip, stopping his careful unmaking of the Loki in his arms. They chuckled. 

“Such a naughty vampire, cheating so soon into the game. How rude.” 

There was a smile pressed against the delicate skin of his throat. He froze. His pulse jumped, but the shot of adrenaline was more pleasant than threatening. 

How strange that Tony wasn’t more worried about a fellow immortal so close to one of his most vulnerable spots.

“You don’t really sound upset about this.” 

And indeed not. At his ear, Loki sounded much like the cat who’d just been offered an entire flock of canaries and a roomful of cream. The Loki in his arms looked back to him from under his lashes, a coy smirk on blue lips. 

Tony was very much starting to think that there was a joke being paid at his expense. 

“Why, of course not.”

Blunt fangs nibbled at the delicate skin under his ear, pulling, suckling, biting down until a bruise started forming. Tony groaned, letting his head fall back over Loki’s shoulder, tilting his neck to give Loki better access. 

Vampires had always had a _thing_ for necks.

“Because if you cheat, that means I can do the same.”

He might be a teensy tiny bit in over his head. But Tony had always thrived in adversity. 

There were four hands caressing his body, a couple of them wandering dangerously low, skirting along his hips and dipping under his waistband. Obviously they were both—or all _three?—_ planning on getting naked and horizontal in the near future, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like _that._

Tony gasped, overwhelmed, overrun by the dual assault, the firm palm groping his cock through his pants and the teasing fingers caressing his torso, a mischievous mouth attaching to a nipple. 

Tony groaned. Caught between two very old and very skilled succubi as he was, there wasn’t much he could do to tip the scales back in his favor, but if he didn’t act quickly, he wouldn’t even _remember_ that there were stakes in this game. He would just end up letting himself be swept up by Loki’s clever ministrations. 

And he couldn’t have that, could he? 

His hand was still caught in Loki’s grip, trapped and useless. Loki would _probably_ let him go if Tony didn’t attempt to play with their horns again… but where would be the fun in that? 

His other hand was still buried in Loki’s hair, curling into the smooth strands. Tony pulled. 

Loki gasped, questing hands jerking against his hips before a hint of fang scraped his abused nipple. 

Tony groaned. 

A chuckle was brushed into his ear, Loki’s grin palpable. 

“Naughty, naughty.”

The Loki behind him was much too composed. 

Perhaps it was time to _really_ cheat. 

Twisting within their grasp, Tony turned around, coming to face the one he considered the instigator and rolling down to the floor with him until the succubus found themself flat on the ground, caged between Tony’s arms. 

Loki smiled up at him, eyes glinting merrily. Dark and alluring patterns shifted across the blue skin, fizzling with power as they broke apart and reformed anew, new marks, new meanings that should appear alien and yet only felt terribly _potent._

“You miscalculated, love.”

Tony blinked as the ground started humming under them, pulsing with steady beats of intoxicating shadow-magic, the heady sort that turned every mortal head and had them panting and willing to do anything bid by the wielder. 

Tony groaned, feeling his cock swell in his pants, already pulsing with need in time with the mesmerizing beat of the lust spell. 

He really hadn't needed anything to drive him into even more of a frenzy. 

However, he was still in control of his own faculties. Tony suspected that this strange drunkenness was more of a side-effect of the array’s main purpose rather than the true aim of the spell. A fertilisation and hatching ritual powered by sex-magic, fuelled by a succubus’ power? It wasn’t farfetched, especially with how Loki had insisted on getting his explicit consent before anything happened between them. 

Tony found himself charmed by the respect Loki was showing him with that gesture. Succubus’ lures only ever attracted people who would be willing to their beds, giving them a push, lowering their inhibitions, even hazing their memories, but ultimately never actually supplanting their wills. But for a succubus to demand such a thing as verbal consent… 

Tony smirked. He’d sprung the trap, yes, but that didn’t make him helpless, far from it. 

Because the one taking the full brunt of the power rush… was _Loki._

The signs were faint, obviously, and it was true that Tony was at disadvantage there, but he could see the way those blue cheeks were slightly flushed, the way their breaths were just a hint quicker, their voice huskier. 

Tony smiled, leaning down, brushing their lips together with a whisper. 

“Did I? I think I have you just where I want you, right now.”

Loki smirked back. 

Lean arms wove around Tony’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Tony shivered at the skill and the sheer passion poured into it, the way Loki nipped and caressed his own eager lips, their breaths mingling together as the rest of the world disappeared around them, Loki’s hand carding through his hair, tugging and drawing him closer as though he wanted them to become one. 

He moaned, forgetting everything beyond this kiss, beyond the warmth of Loki’s body arching up against him, the soft sound of their breaths echoing in the small space between them. 

Hands started roaming his back. Tony broke the kiss, gasping in surprise. 

He’d somehow forgotten that there was another Loki still free to do whatever they willed in order to win. 

Both Loki’s chuckled in unisson, the one under him pulling his head down to rest against their delicious neck, while the one behind him scraped their nails down his spine, before their hands circled to his front and slowly, tantalizingly dipped _down._

“Are you quite certain? I believe we have the advantage here. Just how we want you. _Yield,_ Stark”

When had his pants disappeared? When had Loki’s? 

Somehow he could feel his control over the situation slipping away from him, if he ever had any. Perhaps Loki had only let him have the illusion of it to placate him, or perhaps they’d simply given him enough leeway to see how he would fare before letting the scales tip back in their favor. 

Tony wasn’t even annoyed about it. He never really minded letting people have the upper hand when there was mutual respect involved, and if Loki was more comfortable in a scene they had control over, he would not begrudge them that. 

Their hands were so very skillful, entirely too distracting. They seemed to be everywhere on him, caressing and handling him with both precision and passion, igniting his blood and driving him absolutely _mad._

The smell of lust and arousal was heavy in the air, heady, intoxicating _._ He was hard. Harder than he could ever remember being, his breath short, his skin too sensitive. Each inhale filled his lungs with the delicious smell of a powerful immortal both eager and dangerous, a blood that sung with strength and seduction. It called to the beast resting in his breast, the creature of the night that wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into that deceptively delicate neck, and wanted even more to plunge his cock into that receptive warmth. 

The magic was still beating against his senses, an entrancing song, beguiling him to simply give in, and just let Loki take care of him. 

It was deeply tempting. 

Loki’s gaze was knowing. Tony kissed him instead, distracting him with lips and fangs and tongue, pouring in his own lust and respect, the attraction he’d always felt yet never acted upon, the blinding desire and enthusiastic enjoyment. 

And then he took hold of their horns. 

Loki writhed under him, wrecked by the blinding pleasure rushing so forcefully through him. Succubi horns were delicate, _sensitive._ And almost more erogenous than any other part of their body. 

Behind him, the other Loki tried to distract him by taking hold of his cock, of his balls, but Tony was nothing if not determined. Even gasping and jerking into their grasp, he would still not relinquish his grip. 

He moved down instead, lips trailing kisses and bites down Loki’s chest as his hands kept stroking and rubbing their horns, clenching tighter just to hear Loki’s moans, just to feel his body arch against his, trembling with desperate need. 

He chuckled. 

Holding such power against a being as lethal and impressive as Loki was quite the rush. He nipped at a small nipple, letting his fang scrap over the delicate skin just to hear the broken whimper falling from their lips.

“How evil of you. My, my, I caught myself quite the devious vampire, haven’t I?”

Tony chanced a glance behind him, eyeing the all-too-composed double of the succubus writhing under him. The other Loki looked quite amused. 

Tony decided to push his luck, smirking back and licking up the sensitive bud under his mouth. 

He winked. 

“What are you planning to do about it?”

Loki’s answering smile was entirely too devious, eyes narrowed in pleasure at the challenge. 

Good, it wouldn’t do if Tony ever became boring _._

“Why, I plan on evening up the playing field of course.”

Tony snorted, muffling his giggles on Loki’s heaving chest, causing the poor succubus in his grasp to whine plaintively. 

The playing field hadn’t been ‘even’ from the start. 

For one, there were two Lokis ganging up on him. And conjuring a doppelganger was _definitely cheating._

Second, this was _Loki._ There was no being Tony knew from his long years wandering the world quite as powerful or clever as he, nor had he earned the title of ‘Trickster’ through playing by the rules. Not that it was always in an unfair manner. Sometimes, he’d even culled his own power just for the sake of a fairer game. 

Tony couldn’t tell if this was the case presently, but if it was, then he looked forward to seeing what ‘evening the playing field’ would bring.

Third?

Third, there were long, amorous tendrils of shadow climbing up his legs. 

Succubus magic was as potent as it was versatile, shifting shapes according to the will of the user and the needs of the prey, weaving in and out of reality with an ease that frightened most other immortal races when they chose to think about it. Usually they preferred to dismiss the inherent threat of succubi’s powers from their mind by looking down on them, brushing them off as frivolous nymphomaniacs that were best held in contempt. Loki, as their Prince, usually worked quite hard to cultivate that image, and few were the Elders of various factions who’d been able to look beyond that. 

Obviously, Tony had paid attention, though he hadn’t seen the benefit in sharing his observations with his fellow vampires from the council. Of course, Pepper had figured it out as well, if she’d sent him to their arms. She knew of Tony’s fascination for powerful, beautiful and confident bastards, and Loki certainly qualified on all counts. They were _exactly_ his type, and Tony had known it since before he even knew he _had_ a type. 

Still, he hadn’t expected to have so much fun, or to look forward to their deviousness quite so much. 

Shifting his hold on Loki’s horns, Tony braced himself for the next assault against his senses. The new grip was excellent, tearing small gasping sobs from his lover and leaving them trembling and helpless, tenser than a bowstring as Tony forced them to stretch to all their length. Their hips were thrusting erratically as they tried desperately to get some much needed relief for their hard and weeping cock. 

As a most welcome bonus Tony could also use it as a way to manhandle the trickster and pull them even closer, bending their head back and exposing the long, delicious expanse of their neck. 

Oh but this was almost as devastating for him as it was for Loki. 

Loki had always been beautiful, but there was something uniquely delightful to see them reduced to such a mess _because of him._ As much as Tony enjoyed seeing the domineering, cocky and _brilliant_ succubus when they were in absolute control, he relished this glimpse of vulnerability for the gift it was. Something Loki _let him_ have. 

It was humbling. 

And the curve of that neck would haunt him for the rest of his nights. He could already see the blooming bruises that he’d mouthed into that graceful arch, indents from bites that had been careful not to pierce through, mouthwatering blood pooling there, just under that deceptively fragile skin. 

He could already imagine how it would _taste—_ an ambrosia more delicious than anything he’d ever get the chance to sample, more potent than the most precious of nectars, more intoxicating than the oldest of elven brews. 

He wanted nothing more than to bury his head there once more, and to mouth at the delicate marks, before sinking his teeth in as deep as they could go, to let his fangs breach that delicious flesh and let Loki taste his own vampiric aphrodisiac as it seeped through their bloodstream. He wanted to see it dull the pain of the bite and send bliss wrecking through their veins, to heighten their senses and sensitize their skin even more. Part of Tony just wanted to see them squirm _even more._

The tendrils of shadow creeped higher, forcing Tony down until he crushed Loki’s eager body with his own, feeling the long line of their body pressed up against his, their cock leaking against his belly, their breaths pushing against his chest. Loki shuddered, clinging to him, pulling him even closer until there wasn’t any air left between them. 

They tugged at his hair until Tony met their serious gaze, watching their expression edge between wrecked and devious, serious and earnest. 

“Drink.”

Tony startled, almost recoiling before he felt the other Loki’s hands soothing him down. 

Did Loki not realise what they were asking? Were they even in a state to offer such a thing? 

But the second Loki, the clearheaded one who’d only watched and woven the magical net tighter around them echoed the offer, the almost plea. 

_“Drink.”_

_But!_

Drinking mortal blood was one thing, drinking the blood of an immortal was another beast entirely. 

There was magic in blood, more potent the older it was. Magic called to magic, and magic never forgot the touch of another’s magic. It created a bond, long lasting, intimate, _visceral._ And the more magic was shared, the stronger the bond, the deeper the connection. 

And Loki? Loki was _teeming_ with magic. Tony wouldn’t even need his magesense to feel it pouring from them in waves, to have sensed it even when they'd simply been flyting with some poor ignorant soul in their various meetings, but now? Now that Loki was fully exercising their power, calling forth not only a double, not only a physical expression of their shadow magic, but also almost single-handedly powering up one of the most complex and energy-consuming hatching rituals there was? Dragons were no small matter when it came to creatures. They were beings of pure magic and fairly gluttonous for it when they weren’t able to produce their own life-energy. Hatching one was a huge endeavor. 

As such Loki was simply drenched in magic, a small sun casting the rest of the world into shadow by comparison. 

Tony could feel the egg somewhere in the room, though even such a legendary thing had paled in comparison to Loki’s presence. He hadn’t even felt his innate curiosity itching at him to look for it, to catch a glance at one of the most powerful and rare beings in existence still unhatched. 

Perhaps he was more than a bit smitten. Perhaps he was biased, or simply too close to the source and entangled in Loki’s magical snare. 

But he knew a bite right this moment would have consequences, lasting ones. 

And he really, really wanted it. 

“Do you know what you’re asking?” 

He could feel Loki’s weight on his back, reassuring, their hands in his hair, on his shoulder, his thigh, his cock. He could feel the shadows writhing around him, coiling further and further around his limbs, Loki’s cock against his belly and another against his back. Under him, their legs fell open, reaching behind Tony and folding over the other Loki, pressing all of their groins together and rubbing their moist core against Tony. 

“How old do you think I am? Believe me, I am quite aware of the technicalities of vampire feeding habits.” 

Behind him Loki nipped his earlobe, teasingly tugging the small bit of flesh and laughing quietly when Tony rocked forward with a groan. 

Under them, Loki chuckled before groaning and clutching tighter as Tony’s lurch rubbed all over their too sensitive skin, grinding down on their aching cock and weeping folds. Between gasps and chuckles, they added their own words to the table, managing to sound wry and much too coherent for someone Tony had been teasing for that long. 

“It’s the worst kept secret of the entire vampire culture. You would not believe how many accidental bondings there had been over the centuries, twittering newborns flitting up to powerful elders and—”

Tony rocked his hips again, _hard,_ twisting his hands around Loki’s horns and relishing the long drawn out moan that broke through Loki’s words. Heavy lidded eyes glanced up at him from under their lashes, red and glowing from magic, almost hypnotizing. Loki licked then bit down on their swollen lips, sensual, cocky. 

Behind him, Loki kept going from where the other left off, wry but not disapproving. 

“Accidental though they were, said bonds were unbroken by time and space, and depending on the relative powers of those implicated, they could often have various side effects. Those who forced an unwilling bond were summarily executed. Of course that is only what could be learned through outside observation.”

The hand in his hair slid down to cup his cheek as lust blown eyes glinted at him mischievously. 

“Want me to tell you what your fellow vampires said about such things?”

Tony found himself quite pleased that, while the Loki below him was still coherent, their voice was still roughened with the combined efforts of arousal and need, becoming quite deliciously gravelly. 

“Let me guess,” he murmured against their lips, “you used your not-inconsiderable powers of seduction to ferret out ancient and sacred vampire secrets in order to satisfy your boundless curiosity.” He considered what he knew of Loki. “And perhaps to protect your clan, and ascertain that there was no threat to you and yours.”

They chuckled, both sounds echoing around him in a disorienting sort of harmony. 

“Almost…” 

A hand curled around his cock, pressed tight between their bodies. Tony moaned, jerking. 

“...But not quite.”

Both Loki’s hips started undulating in unisson, and Tony followed, helpless against their implacable flow, against the way they both surrounded him so fully. He felt caught, trapped but only in the best of ways. His mind blurred in a sea of lust and pleasure, warmth and closeness enveloping him so deeply, the beats of lust-magic pulsing against him, through him, echoing through his heart as he moved to its rhythm, dragged along with the ocean’s tides. There was only Loki, his moon, his sun, the cliffs against which he was crashing, again and again. 

His lips were so close to that slender neck, but he couldn’t bite down, not yet. What did Loki want? What did he expect? 

“Loki…”

They kept moving together, softly , entrancingly. Soft, open-mouthed kisses pressed to his neck, to his back. The hand holding his member stroked him, once, twice, chuckling at Tony’s shuddering moans, before guiding him to Loki’s entrance. It felt warm, wet, inviting. Tony groaned, hips stuttering. 

_“Loki!”_

But Loki only laughed, softly, almost sweetly.

“Come on, lover, what’s stopping you?” 

Tony groaned in relief at the implicit invitation, releasing his iron control and slowly letting himself sink into the warm core of his lover. _Bliss._

“Ah, you’re being so good, Stark. Such a good little vampire.”

Tony huffed at the tease but couldn’t do much more, eyes clenched shut as he tried to orient himself, to wrestle back some measure of control over himself. Loki’s walls were warm and wet around him, clenching deliciously in time with their soft pants, their hand gentle and encouraging as it carded through his hair. 

Tony was too close, too far gone, the edge of his orgasm already a tantalizing possibility long before he’d entered his succubus. But he couldn’t really give in yet. Not just yet. 

He freed a hand to caress his way down Loki’s belly, to pump at their eager cock, to fondle the soft folds of the vulva that was swallowing him up so well, looking for a small nub of pleasure. 

Loki cried out, jerking, trashing with the overwhelming rush of bliss, but Tony clamped down on the horn he still held, relishing the way his lover spasmed around him, legs clutching them closer, walls clenching down, milking his cock as they howled in bliss. Their cock jerked, spurts of semen spilling between their bodies as Loki came. 

They slumped down in Tony’s hold, still panting, still hard, shivering with bliss and radiating the sort of satisfied glow of an immortal well fed. 

Sated red eyes fluttered back to him, coy and sultry. 

_“Bite me, lover.”_

Loki’s voice was so very tempting, and truthfully Tony wanted nothing more. He’d been ensnared by Loki’s quiet strength and quick wit long before they’d even talked, he’d wanted them in more than just his bed, and that meant a lot for a vampire who was considered a lone wolf even by vampire standards. 

It wasn’t a compliment. 

“Why?” he rasped out. 

Under him, Loki could only choke out a laugh, elated and devious. 

Behind him, Loki caressed him, hands gentle as they moved down his back, kneading down his spine. 

“The intimacy, the bond, the link, the need to see each other again, to _seal the bond_ again. I know all of it. I know that in this room, on this day, such a bond would be as potent as one could make it with a single bite.” 

They nipped at his buttocks, laughing when it made Tony’s hips snap up, straight into the other Loki’s eager cunt, drawing blissful groans from them both. The tendrils of shadows finally moved again, coiling up his perineum and teasing at the delicate skin under his balls. 

“I’ve watched you for a long time, Tony Stark,” Loki nipped him again, laughing as he jolted again, before pressing a soft kiss against the smarting flesh, “Antonio dei Assoluto,” the small tendrils of shadow reached his hole, probing curiously at his rim before slowly pressing inside, “Antonius Omninos. I _know you.”_

Tony groaned, back arching, pushing deeper into Loki while the shadow started exploring him in turn. He panted, his cock achingly hard. He flushed, feverish, like he could burst into flames any moment. His heart beat too fast, almost as fast as mortal hearts did. 

He hadn’t heard those names in _so long_. 

Loki reached up, pulling him to them, pressing their lips a hair’s breadth from his. “Alathna Trutnuth,” they breathed.

Tony _growled,_ something animalistic and raw awakening in his heart. 

Vampires did their best to integrate themselves into society, evolving through the ages and adapting to the constantly changing world of mortals. As such, they traveled, changed fashion, changed languages, and changed _names._ But it was a very little known fact that it was quite a deliberate choice. The older a name was, the more power it accumulated. And no name was quite as potent as the name of changing. 

_“How?”_

How had Loki learned that name? Tony almost wept. Etruscan was a dead language, it had been _millenia_ since he’d last been able to listen to its melodious sounds, and even a hint of it called to his soul like a siren's song. 

“Do you not remember?”

The shadows inside him thickened, the stretch pleasant and deliciously foreign. He hadn’t indulged in so very long. Why did Loki seem so familiar, why did his presence fill him with so many memories? 

Long and nimble fingers started teasing at his rim, playing with the thin muscle, tugging and stretching him with devious relish. Tony groaned, thrusting back and forth between the tease on his hole and the warmth around his cock, caught between the dual sensations and helpless to the mounting pleasure that was blurring his mind. 

“Alathna...”

It felt so good, so overwhelming. His skin was burning, blood ignited by pleasure. Every sense was heightened and yet focused only on their breathing, on Loki’s quiet gasps as he drove into them again and again, on their sly chuckles as they wrenched choked moans from him, on his own panting, desperate, frantic. He was so very close to the edge, consumed by need, drowned in pleasure. 

And Loki was still whispering to him, long forgotten etruscan words, popular songs of love and mutual appreciation, an old poem about lost lovers meeting again after a long separation, a quest to the underworld and back. 

Tony whined, hips thrusting erratically, his hole felt empty, his skin too small, his cock too hard, aching with pent up arousal. Loki’s cunt was blissful but it wasn’t enough, something was keeping him from release, from finally going over that edge and he _knew_ that it was Loki’s fault somehow. 

_Cheater,_ both of them. 

“So you really _did_ forget me. I should be offended, little sharp-tooth.”

Loki’s cock pressed up against his entrance, slowly breaching him, deliciously splitting him open. It burned, but it was the best sort of sting, the feeling of fullness, of a hard cock slowly filling him up, pressing everywhere inside of him. 

Tony moaned, clutching Loki tighter to him, wishing desperately that he could drag the other Loki closer as well. Suddenly he felt desperate for that closeness. He was already swallowed up in the feel of Loki, in their _smell,_ the smell of sex and pleasure and trust, of magic and shadows, of the rush of adrenaline one got when they prevailed over a challenging adversary… but he still wanted more, wanted to be crushed between them, to have nothing left of himself but their whim, their touch, their love. 

They felt like home.

_It was always dangerous to give oneself to a succubus._

He whined, needy, helpless against the waves of lust and desperations, against the unholy grasp that Loki apparently had on his blood, against the anguish that gripped him. 

His release was still just out of reach, and yet he was unraveling already, mind whiting out with rapture, blood singing, limbs clenching up and jerking, writhing, shaking apart. 

Back and forth he lurched, spearing himself back on Loki’s cock before thrusting deeply into Loki’s cunt, frantic, eager, lost in a rhythm too erratic to make sense of. 

He needed something, was searching for something, Loki needed him to remember, but Tony had forgotten more things in his too long unlife than most beings ever managed to learn. 

They shushed him, both of them, caressing his heaving flanks, carding fingers through his hair, down his back. Loki’s legs clenched tighter around them, forcing them closer together even as they started setting the rhythm for him, slow, steady, _deep._

Tony sobbed in relief, clutching Loki tighter. It was too much, entirely too much. He wasn’t mortal anymore, wasn’t _meant_ to feel this amount of raw sensation and emotion, wasn’t built to be able to sustain them. His life, _unlife,_ was meant to be long and dull, slow and boring with small highlights of amusements. 

This was _too much._

And Tony couldn’t help but want _more._

He was pulled into the rhythm of the succubus’ dance, flowing between them, helpless and drifting like a sailor lost at sea, clinging desperately to Loki as though it was the only thing keeping him from drowning. Perhaps it was. Perhaps the Lokis were the ones drowning him. If so he wasn’t complaining. 

“It was more than three millenia ago. I was already quite old by our clans standards, poised to inherit the governance of the clan, though not quite established yet. I had gone to visit Felsina, hoping for a quick hunt to sate my hunger, and a respite from the intrigues of succession.” 

Something in Tony’s heart fluttered. He recognized the name of that city, though it had been aeons since Bologna had gone by that name. Half remembered echoes of memories flickered through his mind. 

He had been turned there. 

The other Loki took over, voice barely a murmur as they described the colorful streets that he could barely remember but still sent a nostalgic pang through his heart. The words were soft and lilting, but they still managed to depict the quiet bustle and sheer _life_ of the place, to call forth the ghost of a culture long extinct. 

Tony buried his face in Loki’s neck, shuddering with an age-old grief that he hadn’t ever allowed himself to feel. 

“And in the quiet darkness of the outer streets, far from the bustle of the nightlife and the laughter of taverns and sailors and merchants, I found a small man, laying out on a back alley. Half dead already, dying from the death-that-doesn’t-decay. The man was handsome and delirious, his hands clever, and his tunic that of a craftsman.”

Tony shivered. Oh, how their words were summoning memories, so old and faint he could hardly name them as such. 

Loki had always fascinated him, always felt _safe_ to him, and intriguing in a way not even Rhodey had seemed. Was that...? 

“It was little trouble to carry the man to safety, to a secluded house in the outskirts that I had used in my travels. To watch over his change and nurse him back to sanity. To offer my blood freely, for an immortal had no risk of being turned or feeling the faintness of blood loss.”

Tony inhaled deeply, the fragrant, irresistible aroma of Loki’s blood right next to his mouth. It was so utterly tempting for his lust crazed mind. 

“It was in fact extraordinarily pleasant to introduce this frail Fledgling to the pleasure of the flesh, to show him how to please and be pleased, to give in to the allure of lust and make use of his natural talents.” 

Tony shivered, the words painting an entrancing picture, one only half remembered, but it felt so _right._ Lust, trust, the heady thrill of someone who always set him up for a challenge and always praised his efforts, affection, admiration. 

Yes, this felt right, _true._

“I had much fun with that youth. Many delicious and filling meals.” 

Oh, Tony would _bet._ There was nothing more potent for a succubus than the pleasure of the innocents, than the overwhelming experience of a ‘first time’. And whether he had or hadn’t felt the pleasures of the flesh before his change, _everything_ was new to a Fledgling. 

“Many fascinating and ridiculous games. Many intriguing and enticing _conversations.”_

Tony froze. That was more surprising. 

Loki hardly ever spoke to anyone on the council, they considered most immortals dull and foolish, or dusty and too set in their ways for them to be of any interest. They had preferred to keep to themselves over the centuries, only ever intervening to humiliate and shoot down the most dangerously moronic propositions, to belittle those who thought a seat in the council meant carte blanche to push their weights around. 

Why had they taken that Fledgling in? What had he _done_ to impress Loki enough for them to remember him after all this time, to still think of their conversations fondly? 

Softly, almost too quietly for Tony to hear over the sound of his heart beating against his ears, Loki murmured, “Indeed, it was the most successful hunt I ever had.” 

Tony flushed, gasping as Loki clenched around him, moaning as they thrust ever deeper into him, so hot, so deliciously _thick._

Tony gasped out a chuckle, nuzzling against Loki’s neck as he tried to angle his hips better. “I guess now I know why no lover I had ever seemed _satisfying.”_

Loki’s growl faded into a whine. “Alathna.”

The other laughed, pressing the length of their torso against his back. 

“And yet you didn’t even remember me, sharp-tooth. Should I be offended?”

And no, Tony still couldn’t remember, those memories blurred by time and the sharpness of youth, a Fledgling years were often too chaotic to be recalled by Elders and Tony was no exception. And yet, he’d always known he had _something_ he needed to remember, always felt that it was in memories he would find the peace he seeked. His abilities had developed accordingly, letting him read the past of objects, old stones, trinkets, heirlooms. 

But there was nothing of his that was as old as he, nothing that he could have possibly kept through the centuries. Nothing to tell him that much precious and much distant tale. 

Nothing but Loki. 

“And yet you left. You must have. Should _I_ be offended?”

A kiss was pressed to his nape, soft, apologetic. 

“Would that I could have kept you. But what could a succubus teach a vampire? How could one show them how to best spread their wings and thrive?” 

Tony felt like protesting, but knew he could not. 

Vampires’ secrets were not shared with outsiders, and Fledglings needed the guidance of their coven to grow. They needed to learn how to master their instincts, how to give in to them, how to cultivate their own skills. There was vampire lore and their codex, their laws and culture, and Tony was quite aware that the education of a succubus must be quite different. For one, succubi weren’t _made,_ they were _born._

And quieter still, almost mournful, “What relationship of equity could be built between a youth and an elder?”

Tony blinked, snapping his head to the side. Loki was looking back at him with a far too serious gaze, one that spoke of a love buried for eons, waiting for their lover to grow into a being who could be their equal, knowing that there was always a chance that by that time their love would have already found someone. 

“Bite me, Alathna. Now that I know what it means and that your power is equal to mine, let our bond be balanced.”

Tony’s eyes widened. Because Tony as a Fledgling must have fed on Loki almost exclusively. The newly turned were as weak as newborn, only able to drink what was willingly offered to them. Usually, that was their Sire’s wrist or neck. 

In his case, it must have been Loki. 

A vampire’s bite created a bond, the more often it was repeated, the stronger the bond, that was why one considered a bond between Childe and Sire unbreakable. But Tony never had a Sire. 

But he’d had a lover. 

A Fledgling’s magic was barely a speck, not even a candle flame’s worth. Compared to the wildfire of Loki’s power, it wasn’t surprising that they’d been the one to carry the weight of their bond, the responsibility. 

It wasn’t surprising that they’d looked for the reasons of said bond, for the intricacies of its inner workings. 

Tony wanted to. He wanted to bite down so much, to feel that life fluid seeping into him, the golden ichor of Loki’s life force running through his veins. Wanted to feel the golden thread of a bond to that succubus he knew without knowing, to sense it settle deep within his soul, next to the links that bound him to his Childer. 

Loki wanted it. 

Loki had wanted it for a long time. 

They would need to meet again, to learn each other again. There would be conversations and games and challenges, and lots and lots of sex. And blood. 

Tony let the point of his fangs rest against the delicate skin of Loki’s neck, seeking the place that would hurt least, the place where blood was fullest, where Loki shivered at the touch, moaning in need. 

“Alathna,” they sighed. 

Tony bit down, bliss sparking white hot through his veins as the taste of liquid gold and absolute pleasure burst on his tongue. 

His orgasm crashed through him like a sun exploding through his chest, rapture whitening his mind from anything but the heavenly blood in his mouth and the dual exclamations of bliss surrounding him. In his mind, he could already sense that golden thread, snapping back into place like it was always meant to be there, like its place had been there from the start and it had only been waiting for this very moment. 

Tony couldn’t say how long that moment of bliss lasted, couldn’t tell when he’d stopped ramming into Loki’s snug heat or impaling himself back onto their cock. 

He just laid there in limp bliss, quietly suckling on Loki’s neck even after having retracted his fangs. The pinpricks were healing already, there was no more blood, but Loki’s neck was delicious regardless. Hopefully he could leave a few longer lasting marks on there. 

He felt good, euphoric, crushed between his lover’s bodies, still connected. Their embrace felt safe, soothing in a way few things ever did. Tony could sleep there for a millenia. 

Around them, the ritual magic was still pulsing gently, ripples of aftershock that told him the magical workings had been successful, though the dragonling wouldn’t be hatching until the next new moon. A fortnight hence. Those were good tidings, those of new beginnings. 

And Tony would not be alone to face it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end, it takes an entire moon for the Dragon to actually hatch.  
> Long enough for Tony and Loki to relearn each other in full and explore their new partnership.  
> Long enough for Tony to stop feeling like a horny Fledgling every time he saw the long expanses of Loki's bared skin, and finally be able to control the urge to just lick his way along those raised lines just to see his lover squirm, or to follow the drifting patterns of shadow-ink shifting under the blue skin. (He still indulged sometimes, but control was a thing, and it was quite important to an immortal)  
> Long enough for Tony to wonder why the egg was still unhatched, and if something had actually gone wrong during the ritual.  
> But Loki was unworried, lazily lounging on the bed of furs and pillows they'd conjured sometimes during their first few bouts, a soft smile tugging their lips as they gently caressed the glowing shell.  
> "Wyrmlings are like all babes, they come when they choose. This one is merely taking its time."  
> In the end, the hatching was almost anticlimactic, for all that Tony had been waiting for it with trepidation. There had been a few sounds the egg rolling on itself as tiny claws pierced through the hard shell, followed by a narrow snout and then a small crumpled body.  
> Tony could only watch with awe as Loki had scooped it up, gently washing off the remaining fluid from its scales, crooning softly as it squirmed in their arms.  
> Golden and green, its magic a gentle hum that felt too familiar for it to be a coincidence. It had taken something from each of them during the magical deluge that had come from their numerous couplings.  
> And then they passed it off to Tony, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.  
> Somehow the hatchling never really left their lives after that.  
> Not for the many millennia that followed.


	2. Some Worldbuilding

Some quick notes:  
Turan is the Etruscan goddess of fecundity, beauty, love, health and earthly pleasures.  
Alathna means one who drives, puts in motion/action  
Trutnuth is the fulguriator: a seer who reads lightning

About the Bite and the bonds:  
I hc that bites are not actually definitely binding unless they are repeated multiple times and even then the nature of the bond is always left up to the individuals.  
However if there is a great power disparity, the bond will be closer to a Sire/Childer bond and give the more powerful of the two enough insights on the weaker one to be able to care for them. Mostly an awareness for the other's emotional distress.  
It is heavily punished by vampire law to force someone into an unwilling bond, though some latitude is given for those unaware of their actions (if the lack of awareness is on both sides that is—if only one side is aware, things get more complicated. It all generally boils down to informed consent and mutual respect and invasion of privacy and such. Because while bonds could be ignored easily enough, vampires had always been very fond of their privacy, and always guarded their secrets jealously. Intimacy and trust was a great and precious gift, having it stolen was simply unthinkable.)  
Regardless, in Tony and Loki's case, it was more or less straightforward. Neither were aware of the consequences of the bite when Tony was a Fledgling, especially with one of them too new to be aware of it, and the other wasn't even a vampire, and thus wouldn't know such a closely guarded secret unless he deliberately looked for it, which he hadn't at that point.  
In the absence of Tony's Sire, and with the wide gap of power between them, the bond gave Loki all the information Tony's True Sire would have gotten if he'd been there to take care of his fledgling, while Tony only got the barest minimum one could get from such a bond, the sense of a presence, of safety, of belonging. His magic was still too weak to handle much more after all.  
After millennia without being renewed, the bond had frayed though without actually breaking. Loki was only faintly aware of Tony's distress, only ever truly aware of him if he found himself in mortal danger.

Other Notes:  
Tony's magic:  
Tony's power is akin to a psychic's mnemonic ability. Which means that he can basically read the memory of objects that he touches. He might have unconsciously developed his powers in that direction in order to find his memories of Loki again.  
Jarvis:  
Jarvis was Tony's first Childer, however he got discorporated in some way. Tony used a mixture of necromancy and his own mnemonic power to bind his soul to a container, then working out some way to give him his consciousness back. It took a few centuries, but eventually the appearance of computer programming as his answer. He adapted surprisingly well to his new disembodied state.

**Author's Note:**

> Second chapter is actually just some wordbuilding that didn't fit into the story (nor in the end notes) ~~sorry to disappoint if you wanted more~~  
>  Feel free to tell me what you thought about this story, every comment is appreciated!


End file.
